Don't Let Me Forget You
by tika12001
Summary: "I forgot how to do an autopsy today, Jane. The whole damn thing." I stare at the floor, avoiding eye contact. "I think I might be developing Alzheimer's." She stops, and I look up in time to see her face crumple. "I'm scared Jane, I'm so scared."


**Title: Don't Let Me Forget You**

**Author: tika12001**

**Rating: T**

**Summary: "I forgot how to do an autopsy today, Jane. The whole damn thing." I stare at the floor, avoiding eye contact. "I think I might be developing Alzheimer's." She stops, and I look up in time to see her face crumple. "I'm scared Jane, I'm so scared."**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own a thing, make no money, just borrowing the characters but will return them good as new, I promise :-)**

**Author's note: I know, I know, another sad story, but it popped into my head and it wouldn't get out. No rizzles this time, or at least not anything specific. But we all know what these ladies are like with subtext, so... :-P**

If I let myself think about it – really think – I would have realized that there were signs earlier.

If I had let myself muse on it, I would have realized that something was going wrong.

And there is a part of my brain that says: maybe if I had realized it earlier, things would be different. Maybe I could have changed something, made it better, made it _right_.

Maybe if I'd realized, I could have somehow turned back the clock, fixed the boo-boo with a bandaid and a kiss to the forehead and then she would still be herself, be herself forever, and she would not be slowly turning into a ghost.

If only I had noticed earlier.

It's cruel, this illness. She is still here, but she is slipping away from me too. I can't stop her, can't save her, can't help her. I can only try to anchor her down, try to remind her, not let her forget. Wipe away her tears, soothe her anger, all while I try to hold on to my own tears, to soothe my own anger, and remind myself that it's not her fault.

That it's not my fault either.

And sometimes I want to rage against the world, against God or the deities or what_ever_ the hell else might be listening, because she's slipping away. She's slipping away, and I can't stop her.

I want to plead, to beg for her to come back. I want to offer myself up instead.

And it scares me. Because I'm bargaining, and that means that I am already in stage 3 of grief.

But I don't think I will ever reach stage 5.

_R&IR&IR&I_

"I think I might need help," the voice is timid, small, nothing like the strong, confident woman I've come to admire and respect so much.

"What do you mean?" I ask, trying to deny it, trying to tell myself that there's nothing wrong, not really. She's been a bit confused lately, sure, but everyone can have a bad day.

_Week._

_Month._

_Months._

"I forgot how to do an autopsy today."

I look over at the body on the slab. His chest has obviously been cut open and neatly sewed back together, there is a tape recorder on the bench, plus the usual notepad filled with her neat script. "Looks like you managed okay in the end."

"Yes, but Jane..." she is imploring me, almost begging me to look her in the eyes. I don't want to, but I do.

I'd do anything she asked.

"I did forget." I don't say anything, so she continues, almost tripping over the words in her haste to get them out. "I don't just mean I forgot whether I usually weigh the heart or liver first, I mean that I _forgot how to do the whole damn thing_."

It is the word 'damn' that snaps my eyes away from hers again. I look at the floor.

"I... I think..." she starts, and I vaguely wonder if I can get away with putting my fingers in my ears, squeezing my eyes shut and humming. I used to do it when I was a kid. I am not a kid anymore though, and my friend

_my best friend forever LLBFF_

is asking me for help, so I don't. I stare at the floor still, but I listen, "I think I might be developing Alzheimer's."

"You're too young to have Alzheimer's," I say to the floor. The floor doesn't argue back, and neither does she.

I hear her sigh shakily, and finally I lift my gaze just in time to see two tears snake their way down her flushed cheeks. "I don't want you to have Alzheimer's," I confess softly, and her face crumples.

"I'm scared, Jane. I'm so scared," she whispers into my shoulder, and vaguely I wonder how I made it across the room so fast but it doesn't seem to matter when the woman I care for

_...love oh my God I love her she's my best friend what do I do how can I help what will I do when she can't remember anything what if she forgets me I love..._

so much is falling apart in my arms.

"I don't want to lose myself," she murmurs softly, her breath hitching.

"You won't." To prove my point, I hug her to my chest even tighter, wrap my arms tightly around her as though the very muscles and bones in the appendages have the strength to keep the memories in. "I will always find you."

_R&IR&IR&I_

"Does she ever put things in strange places, for example, her keys in the fridge?"

_Yes, but..._

"What about when you're talking to her, does she ever forget names of friends and family?"

_Well, yes... though it..._

"What about when telling you a story, has she ever repeated the same story numerous times, almost word for word?"

_I... but...! Yes..._

"Has she ever forgotten whole conversations before?"

_I... I suppose so..._

"Has she been having problems with coming up with the correct words for objects?"

_... I...! Yes._

"Have there been any noticeable extreme mood swings?"

_Yes._

_R&IR&IR&I_

Early onset Alzheimer's was the diagnosis. Early onset, I scoff, as though those two words were going to make anyone feel better.

"Yay, she got it early, high five!" I mumble under my breath, and Maura turns to me. She looks beautiful, sad, and oh so lost.

"What was that?" she asks quietly and I shake my head.

"Never mind."

I look out the windscreen at the houses going past; avoid glancing in her direction again.

"Just never mind, Maura."

_R&IR&IR&I_

"You're late!" she yells as soon as I open the door and I wince.

"I'm sorry," I offer, but I don't say any more as she rants and paces in front of me.

I don't tell her that I am actually five minutes early; that she has gotten mixed up again. It will blow over soon. It always does.

"Oh! Is that quinoa wrap for me?" she asks, bubbly again, and I give it to her gladly.

"Of course, like I'd eat it? Vomit!" I tease and she laughs, and for a little while longer, everything is okay with the world.

_R&IR&IR&I_

"The clotting process, also known as haemostasis, is actually fascinating. When blood clots, there are three steps the body takes in order to stop the bleeding..."

I glance at Frost's raised eyebrow and I grin happily, looking down at the woman crouching at the body on the floor.

"... The first step is the vascular spasm, when the blood vessels constrict to allow less blood through. The next is when platelets stick together to form a temporary seal or plug to cover the break. The third is called cooperation and..." Maura stops, shakes her head. "No... no, that's not right." She frowns tightly, looking down at the body.

"It's okay doc, it's just clotting..." Frost says, reaching out but she stands up, backing away.

"No, no! It's... co... compilation. Corporation."

"Coagulation," I say softly, and Maura beams at me brightly.

"Yes!" The rest of the conversation is forgotten, and I wonder how much longer she will be with me at work.

_R&IR&IR&I_

"Where's Maura?" I ask, dumping my stuff on the desk, and Korsak looks at me. His eye is twitching.

"She's in Cavanaugh's office."

I don't bother to knock.

"My last day will be this Friday," Maura says, without even a glance in my direction.

"Maura..." I start, but she continues.

"I simply feel as though I cannot any longer perform my job to the standard I expect of myself."

"Understood," Cavanaugh says, rising to his feet. Maura does the same and they shake hands over his desk. "In that case, I thank you for all the support you have given my team over the years, and I appreciate you delivering this news in person."

Maura nods and finally, finally turns to look at me.

"Maura..." I whisper, still frozen, still standing in the partly open doorway.

"Please, Jane," she replies, and I hear the silent plea to the words.

_Not here_, her eyes beg, so I let her go, and I ignore Cavanaugh's gaze as the carpet at my feet blurred beyond recognition.

_R&IR&IR&I_

"What will you do?" I ask softly in the dark, and I can hear Maura roll over to face me.

"Enjoy my life," she replies. _While I still can,_ I hear.

"What about when..." I trail off, unable to finish the sentence, but Maura understands.

"I will hire a nurse."

"I could be here," I offer, and Maura shakes her head.

"You have work, Jane, don't be silly."

"I'm not being silly. I'd give it up for you."

There's a loud sigh and a rustling of sheets. Maura's arm around my waist makes me start, but I am not shocked. She has always been an affectionate person. "Just be here for me, Jane. That's all I need."

I press a gentle kiss to her head. "You'll always have that."

_R&IR&IR&I_

"Doc! Sure is good to see you! We miss you at work!" The voices rise over the top of each other, and I find it hard pressed to differentiate who said what: Frost, Frankie or Korsak.

"Thank you, it's good to see you too Barry, Vince and..." she stops, hesitates. I reach out and take her hand.

"Frankie," I whisper and she sighs in relief.

"Yes, Frankie, of course. How are you all?"

The three of them look awkward for only a few seconds before they start talking, telling tales of work happenings, and as Maura watches them, I hold her hand under the table.

_It's Frankie his name is Frankie and the others are Vince Korsak and Barry Frost oh please don't forget me Maura please please please Jane Rizzoli Jane Rizzoli my name is Jane Rizzoli please..._

_R&IR&IR&I_

"There's someone in my house. I don't know where she's gone. I'm hiding in the cupboard." Maura is whispering into the phone and my heart rate immediately picks up. I grab my gun and race out the door.

"Maura?" I call, walking into the house, gun held at the ready, and she pushes open the cupboard door slowly. Her face is white as ash, and I can tell she's petrified. "Stay there," I tell her, and begin to methodically sweep the house. There is no one else there, so I head back to Maura.

"Where did you see her?" I ask, and Maura leads me to the floor length mirror on the ground floor.

"I saw her there."

My heart sinks as I reholster my weapon. "Maura, can you stand here for a minute please?"

"Why?" she asks, but I just shake my head, so she does what I say, glancing into the mirror as she does. The effect is instantaneous, she drops into a crouch with her hands over her head.

"She's there, Jane, she's there!" she says, and I wrap my arms around her tightly.

"It's just you, Maura. It's just your reflection," I whisper into her hair, while she hugs me tightly and starts to cry.

I look in the mirror and wonder where she is going.

_R&IR&IR&I_

"Jane, Jane, I can't find her, the door is open and she's gone!" Ma's voice is frantic, and I immediately stop what I am doing, put my finger in my other ear to drown out background noise so I can hear her better.

"What are you saying, Ma? Who's gone?"

"Maura, Maura, she's gone! The door is open!"

"Oh God," I mumble and immediately bolt out of the coffee shop, leaving my fresh, untasted coffee on the bench. "Ma, I want you to start walking around the local area, I'll get another car or two to drive around. She can't have gotten far."

"Okay," Ma hiccups into the phone and hangs up. I imagine her immediately walking out the door and around the neighbourhood, calling Maura's name and I close my eyes on a silent prayer as I call Frankie.

It is only ten minutes later that I find her, but it seems like a lifetime.

"Jane! You're here. Is this my house? I can't get inside," she tells me innocently, sitting cross legged on a lawn four streets away from her home.

"No Maura. Let me take you home, okay?"

"Okay," she agrees amiably, and, upon standing, throws her arms around my neck. "Thank you!"

"Anytime," I whisper as she slides into the passenger seat. I sigh heavily. "Frankie, I got her. Bringing her home now. Tell Ma, okay?"

"Is she okay?"

"Not anymore," I whisper, and disconnect the call.

_R&IR&IR&I_

"It might be time for us to start a little routine, Maura," I say to her gently one day when I open the door and find her sitting in the same clothes as yesterday.

"Routine?" Maura perks up at the word, as I knew she would.

"How about I come over each morning and help you shower, change and brush your hair?"

"I have a nurse now," Maura tells me proudly, as she has done every morning for the past three weeks. "Her name is Matilda."

"I know," I say, smiling softly. "I met her, she's very nice." It too, is the same thing that has been said every day. "Would you like her to help you?"

"No." The word is spit out with hostility and anger.

"No? I thought you liked her," I say mildly, and she deflates.

"I... I..." she drops her gaze, and when she looks back up, I see Maura _the real Maura the old Maura_ shining back at me just briefly. "I would prefer it if you helped, Jane. Please."

"Of course I will."

She blinks. "I have a nurse now!"

"Matilda, right?" I ask, and smile when Maura laughs in delight.

"How did you know that?" she asks, and I just shake my head.

_Must be magic no must be psychic cause if I was magic I would turn the clock back but no I'm not psychic either I just know who I am and who you are and maybe that's enough for today_

"Magic, Maur. Just magic."

_R&IR&IR&I_

"No, I don't want to."

"It's okay, Maura."

"No, it will hurt."

I run my arm under the water. "See? It doesn't hurt. It's nice. Come on..." I grab her hand, guide it gently towards the falling water, but at the last minute she wrenches it back and slaps me hard.

"No! It will hurt!" she cries, and I watch as tears start streaming down her face.

"How about I hop in with you?" I ask finally, swallowing heavily to keep my own tears at bay, my tongue flicking out to lick at my split lip.

Maura stares at the shower suspiciously, then looks at me. "Okay," she agrees, and waits patiently while I strip down to my underwear. I hop in the shower first, reaching my hands out and pulling her in. The water startles her and she gasps slightly, then she looks at me.

"Oh, you're right, it is nice." Suddenly she frowns. "Who hurt you, Jane? Who hurt your lip?" Her hands trace my face gently, and I look up at her.

"It's alright. It doesn't hurt."

"But who did it?"

I shake my head. "It doesn't matter. I already forgave them."

"They must mean a lot to you then," she says, and I nod sadly.

"Yeah. She means the world."

_R&IR&IR&I_

"Hi Jane, I was wondering if I could talk to you actually," Matilda says, walking in the room as I complete my 64th brush stroke of Maura's hair.

"Sure, Matilda," I tell her. "Just 36 to go. You counting with me still, Maur?"

"_65, 66, 68..."_

"67," I correct quietly, and Maura immediately parrots the number after me before she continues counting. Too quickly we reach 100, and my morning routine with Maura is over. "I'm going to talk to Matilda for a while Maura, then I'll be going to work, okay?"

Maura stares out the window. She does not respond. I bite my lip, but follow Matilda out of the room anyway.

"I'm sorry, Jane, but I think it's time to consider moving her into a permanent care facility. Her needs are getting too high for me to manage on my own throughout the day."

"I can hire another nurse?" I offer, but Matilda shakes her head.

"No. I'm sorry, but I think the kindest thing to do would be put her somewhere where she can have 24 hour care."

"She has 24 hour care here. You're here during the day and I'm here at night."

"And what will you do the first time she becomes violent? The first time she lashes out in terror, runs away?" Matilda asks, and I wince.

"She has lashed out once... I handled that okay..." I say softly, licking at the lip that had healed over a month ago.

"It's not the same, Jane," she tells me, and I look at Maura in the next room.

"I don't want her to have to leave her home."

"I may be overstepping my bounds here," Matilda begins hesitantly, also looking in at Maura. "But I think as long as you continue to visit, she'll always feel at home no matter where she is."

_R&IR&IR&I_

"Don't like it."

"Maura, honey, look at the lovely garden! You can sit out there and paint, you always loved painting," Constance pleads, but Maura shakes her head, pulling against the arms that hold her.

"No! Don't like it."

"There's a lovely veggie garden out there, our guests are encouraged to help with the upkeep of the plants," the manager, Sophie, says brightly, pointing out the window and encouraging Maura to look.

"Don't like it," Maura says, even though her eyes follow the direction of the finger with interest.

"Look at this lovely room! Beautiful bed and furniture..." Ma wheedles, sitting down on the bed and patting it invitingly. Maura struggles harder.

"No! Don't _like_ it!"

Finally, I step forward. "I like this place, Maura. Don't you?"

"Don't... don't..." she pants, but she sounds less determined, more scared.

"I think it's lovely. Very beautiful."

"Don't like it," she whispers, but the struggling has completely stopped.

"I'll still visit you every day."

"Roster?" she asks.

"Yes, we will still have our routine," I smile gently.

"I... I like it."

_R&IR&IR&I_

"Hi, my name is Maura. What's your name?"

I freeze in my tracks. Maura has forgotten everyone else at least once, it makes sense that it would be my turn soon. It still hurts though. "H-hi Maura. I'm Jane."

"I had a friend called Jane once. She used to visit me."

"I think she still does," I say softly to my hands, as I start kneading the aching scar tissue.

"Oh, you have sore hands, let me help!" Maura says, taking my hands in between her own. She rubs them for only seconds before her eyes widen and she looks up at me.

"Jane?"

"Hi Maura," I say, blinking back tears.

"Oh Jane! I'm sorry!" She throws her arms around my neck. "I don't want to forget you, Jane. Don't let me forget you, please."

I shake my head. "You won't, Maura. You won't."

It's a promise I can't keep, but it's okay.

I don't break out in hives when I lie.

_R&IR&IR&I_

"Jane, are you sure you want to do this?" Korsak asks. He is long since retired, but he came back for this one last day. I open my desk drawer and start piling the miscellaneous things inside into a box.

"Yes, Korsak. I'm at retirement age, anyway."

"Just," he says, and I sigh heavily, drooping for a second, "I thought you'd be out working the streets until you were forced into retirement."

"Things change," I whisper, reaching into the drawer once more. My fingers close around something hard and I feel around its edges, noting that it is square-like in shape. I pull it out, and find that it's a photo frame. Slowly, I turn it around and I feel my eyes begin to well up as I look at the picture inside. "This. This is why," I tell him, showing him the photo and he sighs heavily, taking it from my hands.

"She hasn't forgotten you yet, has she?"

"No. Except for..." I trail off, but Korsak nods knowingly. "No, she hasn't. And I won't let her forget me. I can't."

"What are you going to do..." he starts, and I can see he is immediately regretting opening his mouth, but now he's started, he has no choice but to finish, "...after?"

I keep piling my belongings into the box. "She could still have a lot of good years left."

"Could, yes," Korsak agrees, and I hear the _Good? Doubtful_ that floats along behind like ghosts. "But that's a pretty big 'could', Jane. You've done the research."

"Just... leave it, Korsak," I tell him, and he shrugs.

"Well, hey," he starts, but doesn't finish. I hear it anyway.

_Well, hey, might as well spend what time you can with her now, before..._

I don't finish the sentence, even in my mind.

_R&IR&IR&I_

"Maura, this is your new roommate!" the nurse, Joanna says excitedly as I pull my suitcase into the room. Maura stares out the window, unresponsive. "It's Jane!" Joanna continues, but Maura just stares. "She's not having a good day today, I'm afraid," Joanna confides and I shrug.

Maura has been having a lot of 'not-good' days recently. I knew what I was signing up for when I worked my magic to get in here, to share Maura's room.

"That's okay," I say, and thank the nurse profusely for her time, rebuffing her offers to help me unpack. I am probably the only able-bodied, able-minded person they have here, so I do not take offence at her pandering.

When she leaves, I quickly and quietly unpack my things, hanging my clothes up, putting my toiletries in the bathroom, and when completed, I walk to Maura's side. "Hi Maura," I whisper, and I wait as slowly, she swivels her head to look at me.

"Jane," she says softly, "You came."

I nod. "I promised, didn't I?"

She leans over the side of the wheelchair, rests her head on my shoulder. "Thank you," she says, and I bite my lip against the tidal wave of emotion that threatens to drown me.

"Always, Maura," I finally choke out, and she sighs. _Always_, I say, but not out loud this time.

_R&IR&IR&I_

"It's pneumonia," the doctor says, and I gasp, not in shock but in despair. I had hoped that my presence, my _help,_ would be enough to stop Maura from having to face this particular battle, but it was not to be.

"I read on her file that Maura was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimers about 16 years ago?" he asks, and Frankie nods, tightening his grip around my shoulders when I do not look up from the captivating spot on the doctor's shoe.

"Yes, she was put into a home about 10 years ago. Jane joined her in the home about a year and a half ago."

The doctor looked at me. "Oh, I'm sorry, is she..."

_My world, my everything, my best friend, my..._

"They're best friends," Frankie says and I can almost hear the doctor nodding.

"Unfortunately, pneumonia is quite often a complication of Alzheimer's, due to the fact that sufferers aren't able to chew properly. This often leads to choking, which means food can enter the lungs, bringing germs and bacteria."

"What are her chances, doc?" Frankie asks, but when he doesn't answer straight away, I close my eyes and start humming softly.

I don't want to know.

_R&IR&IR&I_

It's quiet in the room, all is quiet except for the sound of the respirator that is breathing for Maura. As I have done every day for the past two weeks, I lower myself into the chair next to her bed with a groan, cursing my aching muscles, and reach out for her hand.

As I have done every day for the past two weeks, I wait for her to open her eyes.

This time she does. "Jane," I see her mouth form around the tube, or maybe it's just my imagination because then her eyes shut again.

And when the heart monitor goes off, I squeeze my eyes shut against the hustle and bustle of the doctors and nurses.

"I'm gonna call it... 10:51am."

I don't wait to hear anymore, just walk outside and finally, finally collapse in Frankie's arms.

_R&IR&IR&I_

The day is beautiful. Bright and clear, a brilliant blue sky overhead and birds singing madly in the trees.

"It's her kind of day, isn't it?" Frankie asks, as I stare at the coffin.

"It sure is," I say, and smile with genuine warmth when people start coming up to hug me. There is not many, Maura did not have many friends when she was well, and when she grew ill, she lost many of the ones she did have.

"She never lost you," Constance whispers, and I stare at her. Maura had forgotten her 7 years prior, never remembered her again, and I often wondered how she coped with that.

"She had me forever," I say, and gasp as a butterfly lands on my nose. It flutters there for a minute before flying away, and I raise my hand to wave goodbye.

"What are you going to do now?" Frankie asks, and I think back to my... our... room at the home, to the images of my brain scans that lay innocently under the bed.

"Not let myself forget her," I tell him, and turn around to see Matilda waiting for me.

"Let's go home, Jane," she says after I hobble over to her, my body not working the way my mind tells it to, and I don't correct her.

Home is where the heart is.

And my heart is with Maura.

END

**I hope you liked, and I hope I did the subject justice. Please let me know what you think.**


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